


Your Hands and My Spare Time

by Unironicdokis



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Blow Jobs, Drunkenness, F/M, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Friends With Benefits, Leon is bi bi bi (bi bi!), Making Out, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, PwF (prn w/ feelings lol), pwpbticd (prn w/out plot but there is character development!)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-02-23 17:29:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13195047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unironicdokis/pseuds/Unironicdokis
Summary: The first time they kiss is at a party. They don’t really remember all that much—just brief moments, passing sensations— but she’s pretty drunk, he’s pretty high, so they can guess what went down.(LeoSaya Non-Despair AU PWP)





	1. A Fleeting Thought

**Author's Note:**

> This is super self-indulgent.

The first time they make out is at a party. They don’t really remember all that much—just brief moments, passing sensations—but she’s pretty drunk, he’s pretty high, so they can guess what went down.

“Hey, Leon?” she asks, sitting up from the couch in her tired state.

“What’s up?” He looks up at her, in the process of buttoning his shirt. He must’ve seen the expression on her face, because he pauses what he's doing and is immediately by her side. “Hey, are you ok? What’s wrong? You know you can tell me.”

"Did we, uh..."

"What?" He laughs. "Oh, uh, no. At least I don't think so. From what I remember... we made out for a while before I passed out on the couch." He shakes his head. "Oops."

“Oh, ok." Another thought occurs to her, beneath the splitting headache racking at her brain. "Please, don’t, uh, say any—“

“Hey!” he says, and she’s surprised at the warmth in his smile. “Don’t worry about it. I gotcha, ok? My lips are sealed. Besides, I was pretty crossed last night, I hope I wasn’t too off my game. I can walk you back if you like?”

“No, I think… I think I’m ok.”

“You sure? Right, right, no, I understand. I can call an Uber if you want?”

“Really, I can take care of myself."

He laughed. “I know! You’re about as together as they get. That’s not really the point is it? Oh! Toss me your phone.”

Shooting him a questioning look, she hands it to him, and he punches in his digits before tossing it back to her.

“There’s my number if you ever need anything. Text me once you get back, ok?”

“For sure.” She nods, staring at the contact on her phone.

"Hey, uh…” He pauses, seeming to consider his words. “Thanks for the good time.”

He kisses her on the forehead in a gesture that is surprisingly tender.

The sensation lingers, and she’s thinking about it as she’s heading out the door. She wonders if this is something he’s done before, and she figures, of course, it’s Leon. It’s probably something he’s used to. Still, over the next couple weeks, she can’t get it out of her head.

— 

 _Not a party,_ she tells herself. A kickback. Which she attends because she just needs a break. She needs a break from Sayaka Maizono, the girl who spends every waking moment thinking about her future.

When she turns up at his door, he’s so thrilled to see her, it’s a little surprising—like they’re best friends instead of friendly acquaintances.

“Hey! So glad you could make it!” he says, and maybe she’s hoping, but he genuinely seems to mean it.

So she’s at the kickback, and she stays close to him, but not too close because she doesn’t want to attract too much attention. Something about his ease and the way he laughs really makes her feel at home. His smile lights up the room; why hadn’t she noticed it before?

They get separated at some point through the night because the others are so incredibly shocked to see her that it begins to gnaw at her—despite the fact that she knows they don’t mean anything by it. She’s not seriously that frigid or square, is she? She talks to people. She’s friendly. She has plenty of friends. This is just not her scene. But everyone wants to talk, wants to trade yearbooks, wants to ask what the hell she’s doing here.

She’s tipsy, again. Crowds she can handle. Being personable, she can handle. Being overdressed? She’ll live. In the periphery of her mind, she wants him, because out of the haze that was their first time she can still remember the heat of skin against skin and that look of longing in his eyes. Perhaps it’s needy, but she just wants him to look at her like that again.

Or maybe she’s selfish and she wants someone, and something about him is surprisingly comforting. Maybe that’s part of why she felt compelled to attend in the first place.

From time to time, she spots him checking up on her from a little ways across the room. Every time, there’s a small smile—which she returns. Sometimes it’s accompanied by a small wave or a nod. It’s comforting. It’s thoughtful. It’s cute.

To her surprise, he plays the gracious host really well. Perhaps she had prejudged him, but she’d always been under the impression that he partied like a fiend.

Everyone leaves happy; Ubers are called, keys are held onto for those too drunk to drive, friends stick together, he waves everyone off with a smile.

“Sayaka! What’s your way home?”

“Oh, I can walk.”

“You sure? People crash here all the time. Ask Hiro, it’s no problem.”

She nods.

“You need some company? I can call Makoto and Kyoko if you want them to wait up, pretty sure they’re going your way. Or Ibuki might—“

“Would you walk me home?” she dares to ask.

“Huh? Yeah, absolutely! If you’re cool with that.”

She nods again.

They manage idle chatter for most of the way, but there’s a good amount of silence that treads the line of awkward and comfortable.

Like an idiot, she trips, and he catches her in his arms like a cliche.

“Whup!” he says, chuckling awkwardly and standing her upright. “Watch yourself there.”

She hopes he doesn’t notice her going red in the dark.

After a moment of silence, he adds, "It’s cool seeing you outside of school,” he says. He’s looking at her, but glancing to the street he says, “Car coming.”

Spotting the beaming headlights in the dark, she realizing he’s right. He takes her hand, gently guiding her out of the middle of the street and more off to the side. Once it passes, he lets go, a twinge of disappointment at her empty hands.

“Thanks,” she says.

“It’s nothing. But yeah, it’s nice that you came. You’re usually so focused and driven. But that’s cool because you’re passionate about what you do!” he adds, maybe upon realizing how that might come across. “I don’t know anyone else like that. I dunno. Felt like I was seeing a different side of you is all. Although I hope you didn’t feel obligated to stay. Not gonna lie, I thought you might tap out early.”

“Oh, was it a problem?”

“Not at all!” he said hastily. “I was just… worried I might’ve scared you away or something.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

He runs his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. She suppresses a laugh.

“I mean… Lots of people can find the day after kind of awkward, ya know?”

She doesn't really know, but she nods nonetheless. “I guess.”

_Lots of people._

So he definitely has done this before.

His voice brought her back.

“Listen, I know we were both kind of smashed, but whatever that was, I hope at the very least it was fun for you,” he said. “That’s what it’s about, right? Life’s too short to not enjoy it.”

“Yeah, it… it was. Good, I mean. At least, I think...”

She’s still thinking about what he said when they’re standing in front of the door to her apartment, and she fumbles with the keys a bit before the door finally opens.

“Well…” She bites her lip. “Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight.”

There it is, that smile again.

“What about you? Are you walking home by yourself?” she asks, worried on his behalf.

He shrugs. “It’s no big deal.”

But he’s here, and she wants to live a little, or maybe to not be herself, to not think about herself and her anxiety for one moment, so she pulls him in for a searing kiss.

It takes him a moment to realize what’s going on, but he takes it in stride, leaning into her and his hands—oh, his hands—so gentle at her waist that something is definitely aflutter, whether it be her heart or the butterflies in her stomach, she can’t tell.

When they part, his expression is dazed. “Wow, so that was…”

“Yeah,” she says breathlessly.

“Do you want to…”

“Uh-huh,” is all she can think to say because in the next second they’re making out again—the way she leaps into his arms with her legs around his waist is so effortless, you’d think they’d done it a million times.

It’s a miracle they even get the door closed.

“Are you—are you sure you—you want me to—“ He manages as he makes his way down her jawline, her neck, her collarbone.

“Yes, idiot! Oh! Oh my god, do you even have to ask?” she says, fingers tangled in his hair as she pulls him closer.

He has her pressed up against the wall, and the heat is almost overwhelming, but it’s better that way because it gives her less room to think, to worry, to do anything but just feel.

One hand finds its way under her skirt, and she shivers from his cold touch against her thighs. She winces, hissing quietly at the contact.

“Sorry! S-Sorry,” he stammers out, and she can feel his breath on her skin. It’s as if the small kiss on her lips is so sweet that he’s trying to say “forgive me”.

It’s so precious that she laughs, her voice shaky. “It’s okay, I’m just cold. K-Keep going.”

He nods ever so slightly, eyes making contact for just a moment of confirmation before she feels the heat of his lips against her neck again. Again, his hand is beneath her skirt, rubbing circles over her panties in a way that makes her gasp.

It feels good, it feels _so good,_ but for the briefest moment she’s scared because they’re like this, and his hand is right there, and it’s probably stupid to even care at a time like this, but it’s too much, and she can’t forget. She just wants to forget about herself, and she can’t, not anymore.

“H-Hang on,” she says.

He pauses, looking up to check on her again with an alarming alertness. “What’s wrong? Am I pushing you?”

“Just, g-gimme a sec—“

“Do you need a moment? It’s ok if you want to stop,” he says. “I promise, it’s ok."

He sets her down, but her arms are still around his neck, afraid of going weak at the knees—afraid that if she lets go she might fall over right there.

There’s so much concern in his look that in that moment she adores him.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “I—“

“You don’t have to apologize to anyone, especially not to me. I gotcha, ok?”

“I don’t wanna stop,” she says. “I just—"

“Hey,” he says. “Hey, hey, hey,” he says, hushing her in a soothing voice. “You’re ok.”

She kisses him, hoping he doesn’t notice that she’s blinking back tears. “I’m okay.”

“Do you wanna stop?"

She nods vigorously.

“Okay. Do you want me to go?”

She shakes her head, hugging him tight.

He scoops her up like she weighs nothing, and she just wants him to hold her like this forever. Instead, he carries her into her bedroom, laying her down ever so carefully as she reluctantly lets go of him.

“I’m gonna—“ he starts, gesturing at the door, but she cuts him off.

“Don’t go. Hold me, will you?” she asks, and so he does.

They fall asleep together, and in the morning there’s an empty space where she wishes he would be.

—

“Hey, so I kinda blew it the other day—“

“Leon?” she asks, surprised that he’s calling her. Leon never calls.

“Yeah, it’s me. Look, I feel like I screwed up. I was pushing you too fast—“

“Hey, don’t worry about it, that wasn’t on you,” she says.

“Let me make it up to you,” he says. “Drive-in, Thursday, my treat.”

“It’s a date.”

“Super!” A pause. “I mean, not a date like a date-date, unless that’s what you want, or—fuck, what was I saying?"

She giggles. “Relax. I’ll text you, ok?”

“Cool.”

—

The movie isn’t very good. It’s some scary b-movie schlock they’d agreed on because the other in the double feature is supposed to be good, but Sayaka doesn’t mind much because they’ve snuck in a 6-pack, and they’re already a couple beers in. She’s already beginning to feel warm inside. Not to mention, it’s just the two of them so they can crack as many dumb jokes as they want without getting shushed.

It’s fun. It’s easy.

Leon has his arm around her—a move she notices as soon as he tries it because,  _hey, it’s a move_ —but she doesn’t mind in the least because it allows her to rest her head on his shoulder.

It’s comfortable, they’ve got a good view from the back seat, but sometime around the halfway point her mind starts to drift. She stares at him, hoping he doesn’t notice her as she tries to memorize the expressions on his face.

It takes him a few minutes to notice, and only after she takes his hand in hers.

He quirks an eyebrow at her. “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks. Their faces are so close they’re practically touching.

Instead of answering, all she has to do is tilt her head up slightly, and suddenly they’re kissing. They both taste of beer, so it’s comforting when instead of recoiling he melts into the kiss, and she feels a slight flutter as he sighs happily into her mouth. They ease into an almost lazy rhythm as they continue to make out in the backseat of his car. One hand moves to brush her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. As sweet as the gesture is, after a moment she takes his hand and guides him to the hem of her top, to better help her get it off as soon as possible. He learns quick, hands shaking slightly, but with a little tugging the shirt hits the floor in no time.

It’s now that she’s thankful they’re in the relative darkness, and they’re parked in the back where hopefully few people can see them. It’s what she was afraid of—caring. She wants to get to that point where she doesn’t have to care anymore.

He takes a second to admire her, glancing her up and down, and instead of feeling embarrassed or self-conscious, she flushes with pleasure. Maybe it’s the way he looks completely starstruck at the sight of her that disarms her in the most charming way.

She pulls him into another kiss, and she can feel his tongue piercing in her mouth as she reaches for the fly on his pants. Feeling unsteady as she leans forward, she catches hold of herself before she loses her balance, perhaps not as coordinated as usual. Refusing to part with him, no matter how much easier it would make the task, it takes her a bit to finally undo the zipper and get her hand around him. When she does, he makes an indistinguishable muffled noise into her mouth, somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

Wanting to hear it again, she continues to stroke him up and down, slowly at first. He’s already pretty hard, so there’s no trouble as far as that part is concerned.

“S-Sayaka,” he manages pathetically in between hungry, wet kisses.

“Yes?” she asks softly, smirking despite herself.

“P-Please…”

She picks up the pace, jerking him much more quickly now as she kisses him much rougher than any time before, and he actually whimpers, yes, whimpers, on her mouth in a way that sends a thrill down her spine and makes her stomach pool with warmth.

“I want you to come for me,” she says, not breaking pace, but with her breathless voice shaking slightly it doesn’t sound nearly as alluring as she wants.

Getting down on her knees for him in the tight space that is his car isn’t easy, but somehow she manages. She’s positive it looks absolutely awkward, a jumbled mess of scrawny legs and arms and topless to boot, but thankfully he doesn’t seemed to mind as he gazes down at her.

It only occurs to her then, she doesn’t really know what she’s doing. She kind of continues to stroke him aimlessly; it’s one thing to multitask and another to have a cock right there in front of you. Uncertainty beginning to crop up again, she just tries to do what she thinks might be the right thing.

It shouldn’t be too hard. She tries to fit his length in her mouth, only to choke on it in a way that probably wasn’t too sexy. She snorts, trying not to laugh.

“Sorry,” she says. She keeps him in her hand, moving it up and down; at the very least she can do that.

“It’s chill. You ok?”

Judging by his amused expression, she can tell he’s biting back a laugh.

She nods. Trying again, she manages this time to get her mouth around and bob her head up and down his shaft a bit. Her mouth makes unpleasant slurping sounds, unable to stop the spit and drool from getting everywhere.

In the background, she can register a scream from the movie over the radio, and this time she really does laugh, forgetting what she’s doing and choking again.

“Hey, hey, Sayaka. Breathe, alright?”

She blushes, taking her mouth off him. “I’m sorry, I can’t,” she says through laughter hidden behind her hand.

“That’s fine!”

“No, no,” she says stubbornly. “Let me get this right.”

She’d been hoping that putting all her attention on someone else for a change would help ease her mind, keep her preoccupied, but underneath it all there’s still that anxiety, that care, buried deep. She can do this. Because she’s a perfectionist, and she’s going to get this right.

God, once again, there’s that sensation of him brushing her hair out of her face, grounding her as she continues to take him. Such a small gesture shouldn’t make her heart flutter the way it does. She gasps for air as she lets up, looking up at him and their eyes meet. His soft expression calms her.

Trying again, she gets the better hang of it, able to get a good rhythm going.

“See? You’re—you’re d-doing just—just fine—ah!” stutters Leon, eyes squeezing shut as he’s undone by the end of his sentence, crying out.

She loves making him like this, revelling in all the little noises he’s making. Feeling more self-assured, she strokes his cock up and down with both hands, mouth over the tip as she works to coat it in a layer of spit.

“H-Holy shit, I—I’m getting close, Sayaka. I’m—d-don’t stop, okay? Don’t stop, I—”

Hearing him begging for her is more than enough.

“Just like that, fuck, I’m so c-close, babe, I’m _so close_ ,” he says again. Despite everything, despite literally being on her knees blowing him in the dimly lit backseat of a cramped car like two dumb teens, the pet name doesn’t feel lame or demeaning; it feels... intimate.

To her surprise, he tries to pull back at the last second. “Sayaka, I’m gonna c—” He chokes on his words just as he comes, and it kind of gets all over her face and dribbles down her chin, but she’s not one to complain, not when Leon is flush red and breathless like this and amongst the racing heart and warmth in the pit of her stomach there’s the stirring of just immense fondness.

She laughs; she can’t help herself. He does, too, albeit weakly, eyes still closed. When he finally manages them open, he stares at her in a way that she can’t even place, but it’s close to the look she’s been seeking from him this whole time.

“Wow… You look—”

Instead of taking it, she rolls her eyes, cutting him off because she’s not sure if she’s ready to hear it. “Save it. But you’re sweet.”

“At least let me return the favor.”

“Relax,” she said, playing it off the best she can. While she’s sure he means it, he’s breathing pretty heavily right now. She can still feel the warmth inside like fire, but right now she’s forgetting herself in the way she wanted. Reciprocation would just turn the attention back to her, and the idea of trusting him in that way—well... “Wouldn’t want to miss the movie, right?”

—

They fall into a comfortable routine with each other. It becomes hard for Sayaka to think of a time when he wasn’t a part of her life, albeit a part nobody knows about.

It’s a Sunday afternoon; they’re watching a movie together on his laptop when she dozes off on his chest. They’re curled up under the sheets together, lazy and procrastinating any and all important homework they should be getting done.

Despite all the gross sweat and the heat, Sayaka can’t help but think he looks really good right now.

“You’re up,” he says, noticing her looking up at him. His lip twitches in a small smile.

“Mhm,” she says drowsily, one hand reaching up to his cheek and pulling him into a kiss. He kisses her back, softly and sweetly, lingering on her own lips long enough for her to sigh happily, closing her eyes.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” he manages through a muffled chuckle when she doesn’t let up.

Instead of answering she winds her arms around his neck, pulling him closer just like she wants. She trails kisses along his skin; up and down his jawline, his cheek, his lips, his ear. “Pay attention to me,” she murmurs, lips grazing his ear.

“I’m here,” he breathes, an ache in his voice that she wants to push as she makes good work on his neck.

His arms already around her waist in a comforting and secure way, he pulls her in so that she’s instead sitting on top of him, now straddling him between her legs. The motion is so fluid and natural that it surprises her, and she lets out a little yelp of surprise, but she doesn’t stop what she’s doing. Instead, she continues to nibble at his neck, her hands feeling down his chest, hastening to undo the buttons on his shirt. Finally managing to get them undone, he kisses her on the lips, helping her to shrug off the shirt so that it falls bedside.

 _God, he’s gorgeous_ , she thinks as she tries not to stare, but she has time to say or do little else because her shirt goes next—Sayaka pausing only for a second to get it over her head before it joins Leon’s in the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. Then it’s right back to making out, rocking against each other, and her hands settle on his chest in a moment of pure self-indulgence.

His fingers run through her long hair, trail down her back, and finally settle at her waist. She notices the pause at her bra, the hesitation, but rather than wait for him to make a decision she reaches back to unclasp it herself.

And he’s thankful, because a small part of him is glad that she’s taking the lead on this one. Guiding his hands to help her, she shrugs it off for him and tosses his aside.

“God, you are so stunning,” he practically sighs in between kisses because he can’t help himself—because the pop idol is gorgeous but underneath it all she’s _amazing_ , and he just has to make sure she knows it. Doesn’t she know it?

She doesn’t answer, but a small smile plays on her lips as they continue to kiss, flushing warm with pleasure at the longing in his voice.

Body against body in the sweat and the heat, they continue to roll their hips together—slowly, but only at first. She winds her arms around his neck, pulling him in close so that he can feel her breath on his ear as she gasps out, “L-Leon…”, and hearing it in her voice is the best his name has ever sounded.

She pulls back for a second to look at him because she wants to see his expression, his eyes. She wants this.

Their eyes meet, hers hooded and alluring in a way that beckons him in. Of course, he wants her because he’s wanted her for months now, perhaps longer, but he aches for her in a way that scares him.

“I—I don’t know if—” begins Leon, heart racing, and thank god she seems to understand what he means because he sees a glint of _something_ in her eyes. He swears that she nods ever so slightly as she gently cups his face in her hands, pressing a soft kiss to his lips—much softer and perhaps even kinder than he’s experienced.

 _“_ It’s alright _. I changed my mind,”_ she says.

He flushes with embarrassment, ears turning bright red. “Th-That’s okay!” he says, grateful she’s given him an out (if that’s what this is).

“Yeah, I’m not really feeling it right now,” she says, or more accurately, she lies, which might seem pathetic to save his ego like this, but she kisses his cheek because he’s been nothing but patient and kind with her. His face is well on its way to being the same color as his hair. In his eyes, she’s surprised to find not the smooth-talking baseball star; instead, he looks as scared as she felt the first time (well, the first time she remembers). She wants to be here for him in the same way. It’s just a single kiss on the cheek, but she hopes to convey that much to him.

“We can do something else,” she murmurs in his ear, reassuring but also open enough that she’s leaving the choice up to him.

He chuckles awkwardly. “I mean, this is fine,” he said, voice unusually high. “I mean, if you’re not feeling it, you’re not feeling it, but I just, ya know, don’t want to push you—”

She hushes him, shaking her head at herself and laughing quietly. “How about… we just take this slow? We don’t have to go all the way. We’ll just... go as far as we’re comfortable. I’m okay with that. Are you?” Her expression is earnest.

His heart is still racing, but he nods. “Yes,” he says, truthfully, finally fed up with his own inability to just tell her how he feels, ashamed he has to rely on her coddling to make himself feel better about being _scared_. God, why was he scared? When was he ever scared—with her or with anyone else?

She smirks. “Relax,” she says. “I got you, ok? It’s… chill.” She’s mocking him, just a little, not cruelly and hopefully in a way that he understands—because when he talks, she listens. “Just sit back…” she says, her lips almost on his as she eases her hand down to his pants, taking her time with the zipper in a way that’s absolutely tantalizing. Pulling him out of his boxers, she strokes his cock slowly with one hand. “Let me take care of you.”

He bites his lip, suppressing a moan as he grows harder in her hand. “A-Are you sure?” he asks, “You’re a-always the one who—”

“Forget about what I want,” she says because as much as she enjoys this—as much as she enjoys him—she’s Sayaka Maizono the pop idol who never has a crack in her facade, and she wouldn’t know emotional vulnerability if it slapped her in the face. This has always been about forgetting the bigness that is herself and her reputation. If she can just devote her time to someone else... “Try to enjoy it.”

“I want you to have a good t-time, too!” he says, unable to get out his sentence without gasping. “I j-just don’t want you to think I’m so—some jerk who—”

“Come on, babe, do you really want to have this conversation right down with my hand on your dick?” she asks, pouting with no real malice behind it. Because honestly, would she really be doing this—would she really have already done this several times in the past—if she didn’t want to?

Instead of answering he moans, eyes shutting and mouth agape as she works her hand up and down the entire length of his cock, then rubs her thumb across the tip. However, as blissed out as he is by her touch, he loves the sound of being called “babe” even more.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” she asks, voice low and throaty. “My hand?”

“Y-Yes,” he says, eyes still closed. “God, yes, Sayaka.”

She takes her sweet time with him, pausing briefly only to spit into her hand before continuing, keeping the same rhythm and taking delight in watching him squirm under her, bucking his hips upward.

“Faster,” he pants.

“Sorry?” she asks because she’s a tease, “What was that?”

“F-Faster,” he begs, “S-Sayaka, p-please, faster.”

“Ssshhhhhh,” she says, leaning in and kissing him as she strokes him, to which he responds hungrily like she’s something he craves. Overeager, it ends up being more tongue than lips and more teeth than tongue. “Relax,” she says, knowing it will drive him crazy. “Tell me what else you want, Leon,” she says, nibbling at his ear, trailing kisses down his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. “My lips? Is that what you want?” she asks, voice muffled as she continues to kiss down his chest.

“Y-Yes, fuck, yes,” he says, savoring the heat of her mouth against his skin as he falls back onto his elbows.  
.  
One small kiss at his hips; one small thing that sends him shivering with anticipation despite the heat. She kisses the base, spitting to keep it slick as she runs her hand up and down, licking a stripe up to the top. She hears the sharp intake of breath at the sensation. The next moment her tongue is swirling around the head of his length as she continues to stroke him with one hand; her mouth is so warm and wet, and it takes everything in his power to fight back the groan as his head lulls back.

She strokes him with both hands, continuing like that while sucking at the head and slowly trying to work her way farther down.

He opens his eyes to see her looking up at him expectantly with those wide blue eyes of hers. Maybe it’s crazy, but he can’t help but think she looks _so beautiful_ in the mess and the sheets—topless, long hair framing her face as it falls unkempt all around her, long slender fingers around him, sweat collecting on her forehead, the rosy flush on her face, and those eyes—good God those eyes.

“Have I—ah! Have I e-ever told you—you that—that you look gorgeous like this?” he asks, barely managing to get the sentence out as it turns into a soft moan.

She rolls her eyes, taking one hand off to wipe the drool from her mouth. “You are so full of it.” Maybe under other circumstances, she might’ve accepted the compliment, but not with the shame of the sweat and the knowledge that she hasn’t washed her hair for three days.

He was in love with the moment, nothing more; that’s what she tells herself.

“You are so p-perfect,” he says with a quaver in his voice, admiring tone and adoring eyes making her determined to make him speechless by trying to get him as far down as she can take him. It doesn’t work. “Seriously, is there anything you c—can’t do?”

She chokes, and despite her gag reflexes kicking in she holds it for as long as she can before letting up with a disgusting slurp. _Damn it, not all the way._ “Pretty sure I’m only mediocre at giving head, so—”

(In her opinion it’s not a lie, but she’s definitely gotten better.)

“Do you see me complaining?” he says with a weak laugh, only for her to try again, and he hisses, “Ah! W-Watch the teeth.”

“Mmph!” she says, trying to answer but forgetting her mouth is full and snorting when she chokes again. Her mouth makes a satisfying _Pop!_ as she lets up again. “Sorry.” Her smile is apologetic.

“It’s cool,” he says because it’s not every day you get your dick sucked by a famous singer, even for the two of them who have been doing this for some time now.

A thought strikes him. “Do you—fuck—do you wanna go out with me?” he asks, and she hates how his expression is so wide-eyed and earnest. She strokes him faster, hoping finally he’ll be too gone to talk. “Fuck…” He falls onto his back, grasping at the sheets.

She gawks at him. “You’re seriously asking me this now?” she hisses.

“I mean it!” he says through all the heavy breathing before promptly devolving into a mess of loud whimpers and moans, at the mercy of her mouth on his dick. “I think we’d—holy fuck, Sayaka, oh, fuck yes, k-keep going, p-please, just a little more, I won’t be able t-to last much longer if—if—y—I—”

Each fragment gets more incoherent by the second and thankfully he can barely speak, the only real words she’s picking up is her name, over and over.

“Sayaka, please, Sayaka—” he chants because it’s the only thought in his blank head, but one hand grips tighter on the sheets and the other to the back of her head, tugging on her hair as a warning because he’s close—perhaps a little harder than necessary—all usual sense of control and dexterity gone.

Leon cries out, bucking his hips upward because all he wants is more—fucking her mouth till he comes because he’s not decent or gentle, in her hands he’s just a string of moans too loud to care what the neighbors will think.

After taking the time to catch his breath, he opens his eyes to look down at her.

“You swallowed,” he says, tone surprised.

She wipes that perfect mouth of hers with the back of her hand, lips pursing in a small smile. “Are you okay?”

“Fuck,” he breathes out. He laughs, eyes half-lidded as he lays back and lets out a low groan.

With a happy sigh, Sayaka moves to curl up beside him, draping her arms around him. However, she’s surprised when he pulls her in for a kiss.

She pulls back. “You’re shaking,” she says with an expression of concern.

Leon nods, trying to calm his pulse, both riding out the high and utterly exhausted. He wants to talk to her; he wants to try again, to ask her out, but first he has to catch his breath.

As if she’s read his mind, Sayaka frowns, saying, “I know what you’re going to say… Please, Leon,” she pleads into his ear, and she hopes he understands. She wants to say, _Let me enjoy our time together. Let’s keep this in the present_ , but she doesn’t because she’s a coward.

“You don’t know what I was gonna say—”

“Yes, I do. It was a fleeting thought,” she whispers, pulling him into another kiss, unsure whether she’s trying to convince him or herself. A passing thought, for sure, she tells herself. A foolish thought, brought on by the hormones and the heat of moment.

“Maybe you’re right,” he admits because just the idea that there might be something deeper frightens him, and he’s considering taking it back altogether. That ache is still there, the ache somewhere in his chest. He likes where they’re at right now. Maybe he’s being stupid.

“We’ve discussed this, haven’t we?” she asks, but he’s too distracted by her lips on his.

“‘Don’t m—“ he tries, interrupted by a kiss as he mumbles on her lips. “Don’t make—fuck, what was it, again?” he asks with a small chuckle because his mind is blank as they continue to make out. One hand traces her cheek, the other runs through her hair.

She giggles into the kiss, finally pulling away to rest her head on his chest. “‘Don’t make serious life decisions while we’re fooling around’,” she recites very quietly, in a moment of surprising sincerity.

“Who said anything about serious?” he said, tilting his head back to look at her. “Let me take you out. We’ll just hang out. It’ll be good.”

Sayaka bites her lip, kissing his jawline. “We already do that.” The twinge of guilt at causing the sober moment is alleviated; she’s grateful for him lightening the mood—persistent as he is. But she hates to turn him down, and he appeals to her in just the right way.

“Then it’s perfect.”

“Um…” Her eyes are distant like she’s lost in thought. She can indulge this wish, right? Just this once. With a slow nod, she says, “Alright, then.” She can’t stop smiling.

“So... what does that mean?” he asks.

She laughs. “Yes,” she says. Arms around his neck, she pulls him close, allowing herself to be immersed in the warmth of their bodies against each other. “It means yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is an obvious 1975 reference thanks for playing.
> 
> I don't know exactly how the timeline works, they're like 18-19 in this maybe for the record.
> 
> This is so surprisingly hetero for me, but this is my guilty pleasure ship


	2. Devastating For You

“I think we should be friends,” says Sayaka.

They’re going for a walk in the park. She’s holding his hand, and she glances up at him to gauge his reaction. She's worried, anxious, just like always. It's not really his fault she's constantly worried, he's always been good-natured to an almost unnerving degree. Her time with him has been genuinely been so sweet, so comfortable, so easy, like they were made to be friends. Friends, yes, but more? Maybe not. Still, she says it, because it's been on her mind for ages, and she just needs to get it off her chest. The last thing she wants is to set him up for disappointment.

“We _are_ friends,” says Leon. He smiles, clearly unphased.

The knot in her stomach tugs at the easy look in his eyes.

She shakes her head, eyes rolling but a small smile plays on her lips. “You know what I mean,” she mumbles, forehead nudging his shoulder, and a part of her hoping he doesn’t hear. Instead of letting go, her grip on his hand tightens.

“Sure,” he says, “Sure, I get what you mean. You wanna be ‘just friends’.”

“Yes.” She nods, her position resolute. “Just friends. It’s a horrid phrase, I know, but--”

“‘Horrid phrase’,” he mocks, but he’s grinning at her, and she knows he’s merely teasing. “Yeah.” He nods slowly, as if the words are still taking the time to sink in. “Yeah… Friends. It’s for the best.” He shrugs, the hand not holding hers shoved deep into his coat pocket. “You wanna go to lunch? I know this place--”

She frowns. “Leon, did you hear what I just said?”

“Loud and clear. Come on, I’m starving." At seeing her expression, he adds, "As friends, I swear.”

She nods warily, allowing him to take the lead.

\--

While fishing for her keys in her purse, she hears hims say, “You have hardly let go of my hand since the park.”

Sayaka ignores him, too distracted by her task. “There we go,” she says to herself, finally grabbing a hold of her keys and looking up at him. His eyes are amused, glancing down at their intertwined fingers then back up at her. To her annoyance, she realizes he is right.

“That is not fair.” She pouts. “I let go during lunch.”

He laughs. “Alright, I’ll give you that.”

Still, he wasn’t asking her the important question of why. Why hadn’t she let go?

A moment of awkward silence falls between them.

“Well,” he says, “Guess I’ll see you around.”

She nods. “Guess so.” Before he turns to leave, she adds before she can help herself, “See? This isn’t so bad.” She avoids his eyes.

“Yeah, just friends. It’s the best thing,” he says, and to her surprise, he seems to mean it.

“Yes,” she says, nodding.

“Yep.”

“Yes,” she says once more, much more firmly, as if by repeating it again she can force herself to believe it. Normally, she's a natural performer, but right now she wouldn’t buy tickets to see her own show. She shouldn’t be perturbed by his lack of protest.

She shouldn’t.

“I mean, let’s face it, that was a smart call,” he says. “It would’ve been pretty devastating for you.”

“Yeah…”

 _Wait_.

It takes a while to register the words and his apologetic smile.

She stares at him for a good moment. “I’m sorry, _what_?”

“Hell,” he says, “we’re graduating eventually, you have to go back to your idol group any day now, and I’ve clearly got so much to do. Sayaka,” he says, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking into her eyes with unwarranted intensity. He continues with the same conviction in his tone, and she cannot for the life of her tell if he is joking or completely serious. “I know it’s going to be hard to make the decision between the deadbeat unrepentant hedonist who would give up a promising career for his garage band… and the dream you’ve been pursuing since you were a kid, but I know, I know, you have the strength.”

She shakes her head, laughing at his dramatics. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

The sad truth is that it is really hard. Much more difficult than she’s able to express. She likes him much more than she’s willing to admit--to even herself.

“I think we both know that you’d have a pretty hard time getting over me.”

She bites her lip, fighting back further laughter to smile fondly up at him. “Is that so?” she challenges, hoping to sound much more convincing than she feels.

“With my charm? Please, I’m a catch. If I put the moves on you, you’d be doomed.”

Sayaka rolls her eyes. All the same, breaking things off is never easy. She appreciates the lengths he’s going to in the attempt to lighten the mood, make her feel better. The jury's still out on whether it's actually working or just making things harder.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d be pretty hung up on you,” he adds hastily. “Are you kidding? Look at you.” He gestures to all over her, his gaze adoring.

At this, she flushes a light shade of pink.

“Yeah…” he says. For a moment, his expression falters, and he shoves his hands into his pockets. “You’d’ve been pretty fucking hard to get over. So ya know, best to call it quits while we’re ahead.” His smile is back, bright and chipper than ever.

She eyes him curiously, no longer able to find the hard line between his humor and his sincerity. Realizing they’ve been standing there in relative silence just staring at each other, she finally says, “Well… Goodbye, Leon, I will see you tomorrow.”

Her arms are open wide for the hug.

He leans in.

Instead of her arms going around his neck, _something_ compels her to put her hands to his face. Rather than a hug, she pulls him in for a searing kiss.

There’s less than a second of surprise before he melts, arms wrapping around her waist to pull her in close.

It only lasts a moment, and it’s far from the only kiss they’ve ever shared, but this time the butterflies in her stomach are accompanied by a sinking feeling of realization. It's a bad combination--one that leaves her feeling unsteady and off-kilter, like one wrong move could send her crashing.

Butterflies, because she likes him after all.

Realization... because she’d been hoping to prove to herself that she could feel nothing, that this wasn’t a big deal, and the whole friends thing was the absolute rightest of right calls. Or maybe it was to prove him wrong, that she’s totally fine and not devastated at all.

Instead, her mind is blank, save for how much she enjoys his hands at the small of her back and how hard it is going to be to let that go.

Her eyes are still closed when he pulls away, and when she opens them she hopes her eyes don’t convey the sinking disappointment at their parting.

Eyes wide, he touches his mouth--or maybe wipes at it? She has no idea.

“I--I should go,” she manages, struggling to get the key in the lock before finally cracking the door open.

“Yeah.” He laughs weakly. “Good idea.”

She peaks back at him one last time before shutting the door. Sighing deeply, she leans against the closed door, heart racing.

It’s not shut for a minute before she changes her mind, flinging it wide open to see him still outside.

It’s not the smoothest move in the world, the way she throws herself at him, leaping into his arms with so much enthusiasm that he nearly keels over. He catches her nonetheless, laughing into a kiss that’s romantic but not quite as romantic as it could be with the painful clashing of teeth.

“Sorry,” she mutters, still breathless, to which he just laughs again.

“For?”

“Ruining our friendship and nearly toppling you like a jenga tower. You’ll forgive me, won’t you?” she asks, somewhere between a whisper and a plead, kissing every inch of exposed skin she can--his lips, his jaw, his neck, everything in between.

“M’not complaining,” he says in between kisses on the lips. His laugh devolves into a groan. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

She has no idea at what point they made it to the bedroom, she’s so caught up in the moment. Her legs are tight around his waist, arms around his neck, but she allows him to set her onto the edge of the desk.

A flicker of hesitation gives her pause.

“Is this okay?”

His hands brush her cheeks as he pulls her into a sweet kiss, and she’s reassured, just for the moment. “Think of it… this way…” He continues to kiss her up and down, breath tickling her skin. “If anything, we’ll--we’ll be closer.”

“Mm... ‘kay,” she says onto his lips, momentarily perturbed by how easily she’s convinced, but he’s just so pleasant and warm. Their bodies are already pressed up against each other, but she likes the idea of closer. Her rational judgement loses out to the want that makes her chest ache, her stomach knot, and her body warm all over.

Because she’s perched on the desk, his hands are now free to do as they please. Her eyes are closed, but she can feel them at her thighs, spreading her legs apart. Her immediate want is to wind her legs around his waist again to pull his hips back to her, but the want is lost in the sensation of his wandering hands up her thighs. She’s aching for more, but his hands linger—she knows hesitation better than anyone.

“You get lost down there?” she asks, hoping the joke will lighten the mood.

“Heh... Just taking my time with you,” he says, small smile playing on his lips. His eyes are earnest when he says, “You kinda freaked, ya know…” By his voice, she knows he’s talking about last time.

Right… Last time.

“You’re shaking,” he says.

She brushes it off. “Jitters.”

“We can stop.”

“I started this.”

“I know, but--”

“I don’t mind being nervous. It’s the good kind of nervous.”

Closer to first-date jitters or the anticipation of a first kiss than any real kind of dread. Not that she’d tell him any of that mushy stuff.

As their eyes meet, he responds with the slightest of nods.

Hoping to reassure him, she pulls him in for another kiss. “Don’t stop now. Keep going, won’t you?” she asks, voice small because she doesn’t want to beg.

Luckily, he seems to be comforted by her words. Obliging in her wish, one hand gently making its way up her thigh and to her panties, rubbing circles over the fabric.

The noise she lets out is so small, so slight, but it’s followed by a more drawn out, “Mmmmm,” of satisfaction against his skin, cheek to cheek almost like they’re dancing.

“Good?” he asks, voice strangely shaky and possibly nervous.

“Mhm.” Acknowledging him comes second to pleasure, but somehow she manages. She bites her lip, hips rolling into his hand. She craves contact, sensation, and more, but also just and end to all the tantalizing. His rhythm is slow enough to drive her mad.

“Relax,” he whispers, growing more confident, and she knows he must be teasing. “You’re eager.”

She can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

Furious that he’s messing with her--but worse, that he’s right--she opens her mouth to say something. Instead, she whimpers, the sound pathetic and high-pitched, so thank god she doesn’t have the sense to be repulsed by it. Thank god, she doesn’t have the mind to be humiliated by any of this, too engulfed to mind being at his mercy.

They kiss with no heed for technique, lips just sort of mashing together and teeth grazing as she pants helplessly. She’s pretty sure she tells him, “Faster,” but the sound is so strangled that she’s got no idea if he’s actually heard.

Maybe he does. He definitely seems to be getting faster as she gets closer, muffled whimpers escaping from her against his lips because if they’re still making out--tongue dragging across his in a way that’s unlike her and messy with spit. Otherwise, they’re just be staring each other in the face; at least that way she’s keeping herself and him occupied. He pulls back, and she misses his touch like a need because now it’s just his hand edging her onward. If he wasn’t the one getting her off, she’d feel exposed like a nerve. To a degree, she still does, with the way he’s looking at her.

“Sayaka.... Look at you. You--You’re so…” he begins, something like admiration and desire in his voice, but the words seem to die on his lips.

Too distracted to question him on it, instead she tries to tell him that she’s almost there. “I-I--I, ah…” she stammers out, sentence completely lost on her.

“Don’t tell me you’re close already, Sayaka,” he taunts in a deeply affecting low voice, something darker than adoration in his eyes as he smiles--no, he smirks. Still, he can’t take his eyes off her, and she meets his gaze, almost mesmerized. Hand’s a little rough now, but he’s hitting it right where she wants him to, and she’s really fucking close, too close to speak amidst the open-mouthed panting and desperate thrusting into his hand, wet and hot and head swimming with nothing but pleasure. She can feel herself getting close, just a little more...

She clamps her hand over her mouth as she comes, eyes shut and still unable to suppress the whining moans or prevent the jerking of her hips as her toes curl, like all she’s ever wanted was leading right up to this.

It takes her a moment before she can open her eyes and look at him, only to realize that she must be crying because her face is wet, and everything in sight is a haze as if to match the state of her mind. Her hand drops, both of them rest on his shoulders to catch herself. He must’ve leaned in for her because they’re touching foreheads, her breath ragged as she struggles to get it under control.

“Never done that with you before,” he says, laughing softly. “How was--”

Instead of answering, she pulls him in for a crushing kiss. After a long moment, they part, still breathless.

“So... is that good?” he asks.

She smiles. “You honestly c-can’t tell?” she says, teasing him just a bit. The effect is marred by her shaky voice, and she can feel her vision going blurry as her eyes well up.

“Just making sure.” He pauses, pretty smile faltering at seeing her face. “You’re crying,” he says, already on alert. “Shit. Sayaka, what’s wrong? Are you ok?”

Her laugh is weak. “‘M’good. Better than good, honest.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you’re crying,” he says again.

“I guess I am,” she says, hoping to play it down because it’s approaching on humiliating, just a tad--the tears that she can’t even stop and the look of sympathy he’s giving her. She can’t bear pity, even though she knows he means well.

He wipes at the tears with his thumb, hand brushing the hair out her face and tucking it behind her ear to end resting on her cheek. The gesture is just so fucking tender it makes her ache, in a weird way it makes her want to cry even more.

“Hey, it’s okay. Babe, it’s okay.”

Once again, the pet name feels intimate—mostly because it’s coming from him.

“I gotcha. You’re okay,” he says, and his voice is absolutely soothing, but hates still being the shivering girl from their first-ish time who needs to be coddled.

This time, she manages a laugh that is slightly more steady. “It was good, I--I don’t know why. I--I’m just being ridiculous.”

“No! You’re not being ridiculous.”

Voice breaking as she fails to keep her composure, she wipes the tears with the back of her hand. “I-It’s not that I’m upset. I--I don’t know w-what is going on with me,” she blubbers. “I… I’ve wanted that--f-from you--for ages now.”

“You mean it?”

She can’t place his expression, but, damn, he just sounds so earnest and maybe even hopeful.

She nods, gulping down any response because she’s still breathless. Plus, her face is burning with the admittance, and she hopes she doesn’t have to elaborate further. She thinks about him more than she's willing to admit.

For a second, it’s just silence.

His eyes light up, face breaking out in the widest of grins that she catches for just a moment before he leans in, and she thinks he’s going to kiss her.

Instead, he pulls her into a near crushing hug.

“God, I wanna make you so happy it fucking hurts,” he says.

“Getting there,” she squeaks, struggling to breathe. She laughs into his shoulder, glad he can’t see her red face but sure he must feel her skin burning. “Why are you such a dork? Be normal…” she mumbles which isn’t really fair, but he’s being embarrassing. The sting of guilt convinces her to try again. “I _am_ happy… You--You did good.”

He snorts.

Dazed and puzzled, she sits up properly to look at him. “What’s so funny?”

His smirk is frustratingly attractive, but she tries to remain resolute in what little composure she has left.

“You know what this means? You liiiiiiike me,” he croons.

“What?”

“You like me, admit it. You said so yourself.”

She scowls. “I did no such thing!”

“Yes, you did, just now. You said you think about me. Face it, that’s an admission of guilt.”

She gives him a gentle shove somewhere between annoyed and playful. “Just because I wanted you to get me off--”

“Must be hard to face the truth--”

“Fine.” She cuts him off with a lingering kiss, leaving him dazed. “And what if I do?” she admits.

He doesn’t give her an answer, but she doesn’t need one. His smile is enough.

\--

After this, it’s like she can’t get enough of him.

They’re making out; as she lays under him, the weight of his body on hers is somewhere between secure and crushing. It’s not unpleasant, despite the fact that she does anything _but_ sink into the stiff, creaky mattress. They're getting into the rhythm of things. However, he shifts is weight in a way that puts hard pressure on her leg, and she lets out an involuntary squeak.

He stops. “You--”

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, anticipating what he’s going to say and already reassuring him. “M’fine.” Her fingers run through his red hair in what is meant to be a calming gesture. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

All this for his sake, but a little bit for herself. She just wants him to continue.

It takes a second, but he nods, kissing her cheek in a way that makes her smile. A hand traces up her leg, fingers a light pressure on her thigh, and she shivers. His hair tickles the side of her face, and a giggle escapes from her lips before she can help herself.

Sayaka spreads her legs as invitation, his hand beneath her skirt and slipping beneath her underwear. She gasps in response, momentarily lost in the sensation of his hand’s slow, rhythmic circles between her legs. Arms already around his neck, she pulls him in closer for more heat, more skin on skin. He takes his time, as if he’s almost exploring. It’s funny; she’d always assumed he’d be the type to just go at it. Instead, it’s like they’re discovering this together.

He pauses to look at her. “Is this alright?” he asks, hand speeding up in a pleasing rhythm to which she suppresses a moan in response. There’s something cautious in his voice, even after all this time.

She nods, biting her bottom lip. “‘Course,” she manages, but it’s breathless.

The movement shifts from a massage to finding her clit, and at the new sensation, she gasps, hips twitching on a reflex.

“Oh!”

It’s not so much said as it is moaned.

He stops again--thoughtful, but frustrating, considering she wants nothing more than for him to do whatever that was again. “A-Are you okay?”

She nods, flushing with pleasure. “Do that again.”

“Huh? Did I--”

“You’re fine, Leon. Keep--Keep going.”

He stares at her a moment. “How’d you know--”

“Lucky guess,” says, not bothering to let him finish. She prides herself on her good intuition. Still, he never stops being surprised at how easily she can read him. “Now are you going to…”

She glances down then back up at him.

“Oh!” he says like he only just remembers what he’s been doing, thumb rubbing her clit.

 _That’s it_ , that’s the spot that makes her back arch and hips jerk.

“Like that?” he asks, hand moving in the same achingly slow rhythm.

“Y-Yeah.” At least, that’s what she tries to say. It’s so breathy, it’s almost indistinguishable from all the heavy panting. Instead of answering properly, she reaches up to put her hands to his face, just pulling him closer—pulling his face closer to hers, pulling him into a hungry kiss, a moaning escaping her lips on his as she continues to rock into his touch.

 _Fuck_ , that feels _so_ good.

Lost in the heat, warm breath, the weight of his body, his hand between her legs, she just wants more, she just wants him. She pulls him in tighter, like closer is the solution to all her troubles, arms around his neck and whispering in his ear. “Keep--K-Keep going, ple--please.”

It’s stupid; it’s like her mind is blank, swimming with pleasure and desire. She just wants him, she just wants his hands on her body, she just wants him to touch her in any way he can. She didn’t even know it was possible to want someone in this way, that surrendering her control could be freeing instead of causing her to seize up with fear.

“Oh… O-Oh my--”

Her cries go silent, mouth stretched in a wide “O” as she gasps desperately, her whole body shaking as she comes. Head thrown back into the pillows, one long gasp drawn out.

When she finally catches her breath and comes to her senses, she opens her eyes to stare up at him.

His grin is devilish, infuriatingly attractive. “Let’s go again.”

She laughs, surprised at herself for still being breathless. “Give me some time to recover.”

He leans in for a quick peck on the lips, which she appreciates and reciprocates with a happy smile.

“You’re quiet, you know that?”

“Sorry, we can’t all be as loud as you,” she says, rolling her eyes, but she smiles, her voice teasing.

Still, it’s true. She hasn’t quite gotten the hang of being vocal. She isn’t really sure why; after all, she’s comfortable with him--more comfortable than she ever expected. Why is she still embarrassed?

“No shame in being loud,” he says.

“Clearly, judging by the noises you make,” she says, mischievous glint in her eye for just a moment before she makes her best o-face and lets out a loud moan.

“Wh--”

She doesn’t let him finish, throwing her head back and moaning loudly again, trying her best to make it deep and guttural and as mocking as possible. She drags one hand across her face, lingering at her bottom lip, eyes shut and for once she’s completely shameless. If it’s to embarrass him, then it’s worth a little humiliation.

“Oh, Sayaka!” she cries out in her best possible imitation of him, breaking character for a moment to snort with laughter. “Oh, baby! Oh yeah, just like that! Oh, _FUCK_!”

To her surprise, his expression of surprise and bewilderment breaks down. Even as he fights back the stifled chuckling, he melts. As he buries his face in her shoulder, she can still hear the muffled laughter--his chest and shoulders shaking against her body.

They laugh together for a while, and she manages to get out a few more mocking groans at his expense even while her sides are splitting.

When he finally sits up, she can see he is a bright shade of red, face flushed by the mixture of amusement and embarrassment.

They stare at each other in silence for a few seconds. She’s still breathing hard, but she decides to be the first to break it.

“If you’re asking for a show, I think you’re setting yourself up for disappointment,” says Sayaka in a tone that’s almost somber, coming back down to reality. He’s on top of her, head resting on her shoulder.

She prays that he doesn’t look at her, trying to fight back the blush creeping into her cheeks. Sure, she’s being snarky with him, but the horrifying realization of her behavior is starting to hit. The embarrassment returning is painful.

He chuckles. “I think I already got one. You’re more than capable of acting.” He lifts his head, looking up at her. More quietly, he adds, “I’m not asking you to pretend.”

“Please, you just want me to stroke your ego.”

“You think so? I'm wounded. I’m just saying...” he says, this time with a sweet, lingering kiss that makes her feel special and cared for.

Damn it.

It’s the most inconvenient thing, feeling cared for. Especially when she wants to be mad at him.

“... If you like something… why shouldn’t the whole world know?”

“Awful confident in your abilities, aren’t you?” she asks, as if she isn’t already swept off her feet. As much as she tries to deny it to herself, she’s pretty taken with him.

He continues to kiss her up and down, less tender, more eager now. She can hear the grin in his voice. “I mean, I did land a pop idol, and she’s pretty fuckin’ hot. You tell me.”

He’s making his way further down, already at her collarbone when he pauses for a moment to glance up at her. Once again, his grin is devilish. She kinda likes when he’s cocky, much to her dismay. Still, two can play at this game.

“You--You must be a lucky guy if this girl keeps coming around,” she says, continuing to tease him and trying not to get lost in the sensation of his lips upon her neck.

He begins to unbutton her shirt, kissing her chest and pausing again to look up at her. “I am. You have no idea.”

“Try to tell me.”

“Well, first, she’s got a great rack.”

Sayaka snorts, but a nagging suspicion resurfaces. It eats away at her, making her stomach churn. She knows he doesn’t mean anything by it. In fact, she’s pretty sure it’s a compliment. But it’s times like this that she wishes she could dissolve, or melt maybe… anything, as long as she’s unrecognizable. Just an amorphous blob, with not discernable shape, no appeal, nothing a man could ever possibly find attractive. Nothing he could ever say to her that would make her feel sick to her stomach.

Well, it was to be expected. He couldn’t go on being inhumanly perfect forever, right? There always had to be a slip-up. A catch.

“Don’t even get me started. I mean, I already said she was hot, right? But this girl? _Holy shit._ She’s the real deal.”

 _Shit_. She hadn’t been expecting the amount of reverence in his voice. And right when she thinks he’s slipped up, he always somehow manages to recover.

His eyes appraise her up and down.

He sounds so admiring, so adoring, that she wants to believe him. She wants to believe that she’s this girl he holds in such high regard.

Sayaka flushes a deep shade of pink. She hesitates, swallowing hard. “You must really like her,” she says slowly, as if she’s almost afraid of the response. But she can’t help it, her curiosity gets the better of her.

They’re face to face again, eyes meeting, immeasurably close.

He snorts, chuckling and shaking his head. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Sayaka opens her mouth to protest. “I…”

She pauses.

_I... I'm allowed to enjoy myself, right? Don't I deserve this?_

He shoots her a questioning look. “What is it?” His eyes are concerned.

She considers voicing her troubles, but after a moment, her lips twitch in a small smile, hesitant but hopeful. “Nothing. It was nothing… Kiss me again.”

With a grin he obliges, and she melts into his touch.


	3. So Not Punk Rock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is nearly done I'll update in a few days

They're hanging out at his place when she finds something interesting.

"Is this yours?" asks Sayaka.

Leon looks up to her holding his guitar, watching him with a curious expression.

"Uh... Yeah."

Something about the way he responds is closed off, but she continues to pry.

"Do you play?"

He considers his answer a bit before shrugging. "A little, I kinda gave it up after a while."

"Oh. That's too bad." She frowns. It would've been nice to know someone else who does music. "How come?"

"Hm… I dunno. Back when I was on a team I was kinda busy. I guess I have the time now, what with baseball being sorta up in the air. Have I told you about the whole 'wanting to be a singer' thing?"

She snorts with laughter, guitar in one hand as she covers her mouth with the other, hiding her smile. "Have you told me? Pretty sure the whole 78th knows."

His posture deflates, hands on his pockets. "Right..."

She hates seeing the disappointment on his face, so she pats the spot on the ground next to her for him to sit. He obliges, and she nudges him with her shoulder. "Cheer up. It's cute."

"You think so?" he asks, and just by her words his eyes seem to brighten.

"Sure. Funny... but cute. I like how enthusiastic you are about the whole thing."

He flushes pink up to his ears. "Th—thanks."

She offers the guitar to him, but he puts his hands up as if to keep it away.

"It's out of tune. Maybe some other time. But..."

She nods in understanding. In the moment of silence, a thought occurs to her. "I think you should take it up again!"

"What?" His eyes are wide.

"Absolutely! That's what you were going to say right? You were considering taking it up again? I mean, it's clearly something you're passionate about! Now tell me, am I right, or am I right?"

He eyes her with a skeptical expression, and for a moment there's the fear that she's said something wrong.

"It's weird how you do that," he says. "Impressive, but weird."

"What is?"

"How you seem to just know what I'm thinking."

"Oh… It's not hard to guess," she says. "Judging by the records on the wall and the 3 or 4 _hundred_ times you mentioned your band in class. And—" she sets the guitar down and stretches her arms out before placing them around his neck and resting her head on his shoulders, "I'd like to think I know you pretty well. I like to be on at least friendly terms with all my hook ups," she jokes, hoping to dismiss his suspicion.

He raises and eyebrow. "All the people? So I have competition now?"

His tone is teasing rather than jealous.

Their faces are inches apart. Her lip twitches in a small smirk. "Only the hoards of fanboys I have to ward off."

"Humblebrag," he mutters, rolling his eyes, but she can see the slightest smile as their lips meet, and she laughs into the kiss.

—

They're studying together—her idea, so it's a surprise to find that she's hardly able to concentrate. He's writing something down in a notebook while Sayaka watches him; there's just something about his expression of concentration that draws her in. He frowns, scribbling something down (hopefully applying himself to his studies for a change), tapping his head with the pencil a few times before continuing the same beat on the table. When he's focused, he bites his own tongue ever so slightly. It's a funny little habit. The fact that she's picked up on it frightens her more than it rationally should.

"Sayaka," he says, reaching out and shaking her shoulder and still not looking up from his textbook. "Talk to me here, this doesn't make any sense." When she doesn't answer, he looks up at her. "Sayaka?"

Maybe it's something about the way the light is striking him through the blinds, but a thought occurs to her.

"Leon, you're very attractive," muses Sayaka.

He doesn't go completely red, but his ears do, and she can make out the faint pink tinge on his cheeks. He stares at her blankly for what feels like an eternity before shaking his head and glancing away. "Sh-Shut the fuck up," he mutters.

"Honest!" she says, eyes wide at his reaction. It's certainly unexpected—with his confidence, surely he must know, right?

"Get outta here," he says, waving a hand dismissively and by his tone she can't tell if he's really cross or just joking.

"You are!" she says, and before he can tell her to stop joking around, she says, "I'm being serious. You've always had a very pretty, boyish face."

He groans, hiding his now bright red face in his hands.

"Hey! That was a compliment," she scolds. "What's the matter with what I said?"

He glances up at her. "Pretty? That is so not punk rock."

She rolls her eyes. "You are ridiculous."

"You get a kick out of it."

"Do I?"

"I think you do." His expression is smug, as if daring to challenge her.

The corner of her mouth twitches in a small smile. "Maybe." Inspired, she takes his face in her hands, thumbs on his cheek and fingers at his jawline. Drawing him closer as she leans in, she says, staring into his eyes, "You are dreamy and a delight, and I enjoy you very much."

It's more honest than she's used to letting slip, but she's so fond in the moment that she can't help herself. Plus, it's always fun to watch him squirm. His skin is burning beneath her fingers. She pecks him on the lips and he melts into a blushing, sputtering mess in her hands.

Sayaka lets him go, turning back to her book. "Now," she says, unable to suppress the smirk or the feeling of smug satisfaction. "Did you need my help with something?"

"Yeah, just—just give me a sec," he stutters, still windswept. He is positively adorable.

"Now will you believe everything I tell you?" asks Sayaka.

"Hell yeah."

She laughs.

—

"Fuck… Oh, fuck, yeah, Sayaka. Right—right there."

Leon bucks his hips, thrusting hard into her mouth—roughly and repeatedly.

Sayaka gags, holding it for a moment before tapping his leg, and Leon lets up on her head. With a loud gasp for air, she takes her mouth of him.

"You ok?" he asks, eyes wide.

She coughs, spit dribbling down her chin. "Yeah, no problem," she says, hasty in her reply. "Why?"

Leon moves his hand from the back of her head, instead brushing the loose hair out of her face.

She rolls her eyes, even as she can feel her cheeks burning slightly. She's used to his quirks by now—a touch of reassurance here, a smile there. It's always the little things that send her stomach fluttering. And it is. So. Damn. Annoying. Why does she have to be such a sap?

His hand is on her cheek, and she turns her head slightly so that his fingers are in her mouth. Maybe then he won't be able to feel how hot her face is.

He moves his hand, wiping spit off her chin with his thumb. "You used the signal."

Right. The nonverbal safeword.

"I couldn't breathe, it's fine." It's flippant, but not untrue. Really, it's not a big deal. Besides, the longer he dwells on it the harder it is going to be to get back into it. So, as she says this, she continues to move her hand slowly up and down his length, looking up at him as she presses a small kiss to his pelvis.

It's a cute gesture even if she just wants to keep her lips occupied. She imagines he'd be endeared, but he knows her too well by now. He can tell when it's an attempt to distract him.

"Ok, I just, wasn't sure if—"

"You're fine, Leon," she says. "Really." She kisses the tip, then circles the head repeatedly with her tongue. If only he would relax and stop worrying about hurting her. She's not damaged or delicate or angelic or whatever bullshit idyllic image he's conjured up of her in his head.

He groans softly at her touch.

Their eyes meet, and his lips twitch in an assured smile. "Okay," he says with a nod. "Okay."

—

When he finally comes in her mouth, she lets up on his cock with a loud gasp and a small laugh.

"Damn, that was hot," says Leon. His breath is ragged.

She rolls her eyes, grinning and wiping at the spit on her mouth with her hand. "You think so?" she asks, secretly pleased. She's trying to play it cool, but also, she really doesn't have any clue what is or isn't attractive to her partner. At the end of the day, it's all guesswork. So, even if it's dumb, it's still gratifying to hear. Her face is warm; she hopes the blush isn't noticeable. If it is, he doesn't comment on it.

"Are you kidding?" As it always seems to be, his tone is admiring, mixed with disbelief.

She licks her lips.

"What other chick is cool enough to let me deepthroat?" he asks.

She snorts, avoiding his eyes. Still, wiping again at her mouth with her hand, he does catch her hiding a small, satisfied smile.  
.

—

"Oh—Oh my god," says Sayaka, voice breaking through a gasp as her back arches and her eyes close. "Yes," she says, the word not so much spoken as it is breathed. "Yes, Leon. Just like, ah—!"

She cries out at the sensation of him flicking his tongue out. He doesn't respond, just continues to eat her out, but she swears she hears his faint chuckle.

Her head normally is fallen back onto the pillow, but she glances down at him for just a moment. The sight of him between her legs is… it's stunning. He continues to fuck her with his tongue, and she throws her head back, gasping and moaning, for once allowing her walls to fall and be truly open. She spreads her legs farther, hands resting on the back of his head, tangling in his red hair. Every time he does something she likes, her fingers clench, winding and knotting roughly in a way that makes him hiss, but he just grins slyly because he knows he's doing his job.

"You good, Sayaka?" he asks, teasing, looking up at her with those sparkling blue eyes.

"Mmmm…" is all she can manage to respond back, red in the face. "Uh-huh." She gasps, biting her lip as he touches her clit because why the hell were they not doing this all this time? All her anxieties, her worries, seem really stupid in retrospect. All that fretting about what he would think of her when he saw her, and other worries, all gone with the sensation of his lips on her--and his tongue.

"Why didn't we—we do this b—before?" she asks.

"You—You like it?" he asks.

"It's taking everything to hold myself back from—from si—sitting on your face right now," she says with a weak laugh, still breathless, but he laughs and smiles fondly at her.

"Cool," says Leon. He shrugs, a small smirk on his lips. "Not to brag, but I mean—"

She rolls her eyes. "Ok, you're good at this. Happy?"

He finds her clit, rubbing it with one hand while he continues to lick at her entrance.

"Oh, fuck," she cries out. "Oh, oh, just like that. Oh—" She doesn't finish, falling apart into a long drawn out moan.

"You like that?" asks Leon.

"Yes," she breathes, so wet. "I'm so close, babe, please keep going."

"You're wet, Sayaka," he says, somewhat admiring before continuing.

"That feels so good," says Sayaka. "Please don't stop, Leon." She's begging for him now, anything to feel, anything to come. Her voice rises, high-pitched, fast, desperate. "Please, I—I'm so close, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna c—"

She cries out as she comes, legs shaking as she gasps and throws her head back into the pillow.

It takes her a moment to catch her breath. Mind blissfully blank, and it's like she's seeing stars.

"Are you ok?" he asks, this time not teasing, genuine care in his expression.

His voice brings her back.

"Mhm," she whimpers with a small nod. For a moment, she just wants more. Her mind wanders without her permission, it was wandering, thinking about what it would feel like to have him inside her. Sometimes, she's curious. Sometimes, she even reaches the point where it's all she can think about.

Leon has her in a firm but careful grasp, placing a soft kiss at her inner thigh, and it's like she's floating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This keeps getting longer for some reason.


	4. At Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn 5k for one scene I need to chill

"I want it to be you."

"Sayaka." Her name sounds breathless on his lips. "I mean. Of course. For you, of course. Of course, of course, of course," he says over and over like a chant, like a reassurance, like there's nothing else he can think to say when he looks at her. "But… I mean, Imma just say, I don't really see what the big occasion is. We've hooked up… so many times."

"You're right." She hugs her arms close to her chest, immediately self-conscious. "You're right, your dick has touched the back of my throat and virginity is a social construct. I'm an idiot."

"No!" He's at her side at once. "No, that's so not what I meant. You—you're not an idiot. I guess I just wanna know… why?"

"Leon, I…" She looks to him, and their eyes meet. "I trust you."

He frowns. "You know that's not what I want to hear."

"God, Leon!" She shakes her head, placing a hand to her forehead. "Since when has  _love_  ever mattered to you when you sleep with someone?"

"It doesn't! Didn't. It—It still doesn't. Shouldn't." He shakes his head. "I… I don't know."

"I wouldn't know about love," mumbles Sayaka. "I think I'm too young to know what love is. I just know that I… I feel safe with you. Forget love." She stares at him, as if trying to will him to understand. His gaze is averted, so she takes his face in her hands so they're looking in the eye. This time, she tries again. "I—I'm inspired. I'm  _safe_. You make me braver. Do you know how rare that is?"

"How rare  _what_  is?"

"To just look at someone, and feel… at home. Has that ever happened to you?"

He looks at her, eyes meeting once more. "Once."

Realization dawns on her.

"Oh." She feels her face grow hot. "You don't mean—"

"Yeah," he says with a nod. He's red as well, avoiding her gaze. He clears his throat. "Besides, I thought you were waiting for like… 'the one' or whatever." He does the air quotes thing. Maybe it's just her imagination, but he sounds bitter. She can't imagine why.

"Someone special, not 'the one'. Which... you are. I—I can tell you anything. Talk to you about anything. I—I don't feel ashamed to be me. And, I…" She is burning up. "I want to share this moment with you," mumbles Sayaka, resting her head on his shoulder and nudging him.

Leon snorts. "Now who's the corny one?" Teasing, but it's not mean-spirited.

Sayaka lifts her head up, sticking her tongue out, to which he responds right back in kind.

At this, she giggles, practically throwing her arms around him as she pulls him in for a deep kiss. His eyes go wide for a moment before he melts into her touch.

She loves it, loves his quirks, his habits—the way he makes everything  _more_. How he brushes her hair behind her ear, the feeling of his fingers when he cups her face in his hands, the trace of hands down her sides before he winds his arms around her waist, pulling her in close. The way their bodies feel pressed up against each other. The way he holds her, making her feel secure, safe, warm inside...

She is burning everywhere, flush against him—maybe not lovesick, but irritatingly close.

It's a complicated emotion. She trusts him, she adores him, so much as to share this moment of vulnerability so painful it almost makes her sick, but she also is a simple woman who just likes the feeling of his tongue easing into her mouth as he presses her up against the nearest wall. She's allowed to be a little indulgent.

She is smothered, overwhelmed by heat and sensation. Drowning, in a good way, unable to think of anything else.

He pauses for just a second.

"You want to…" he asks, leaving the unfinished question hanging in the air—murmuring against her lips as their intensity starts to build.

"Mhm," she responds right onto his lips with a kiss, not wanting to part with him for a second. She undoes his shirt, sneaking her hand under the fabric so that she can feel the bare skin underneath, the lean muscle.

"You are so _hot_ ," she whines against his cheek—superficial, admiring, wanting—pick a word. It's now or never, or else she'll never be brave enough to say it. She's saying all the things she was too shy or embarrassed to tell him. She's purging all the pent-up feelings, all the compliments she never gave--getting it out of her system.

"You—You think so?" he asks, and there's something in his tone thats sounds... sheepish? Bashful? Pleased?

_Oh my god, isn't he precious?_

She swears he'll be the death of her.

"Yes!"

She beams, responding with an enthusiasm she's never willingly let show. The happy grin on his face when she cups his face in her hands and pulls him in for another kiss is enough to make her heart skip a beat.

He peppers her face in kisses, lifting up her skirt and slipping a hand beneath her panties. That's what she likes about him. Make him happy, and he reciprocates in full. She's aching for his touch, already warm and wet. Gasping, she rocks forward into his touch, hot and swimming with pleasure and wanting more—wanting him.

"Are you ok?" he asks her. "Does that feel good?"

"Uh-huh," she says lamely, biting on her lip and nodding. "A little higher," she tells him, breathless. "Faster. Touch me, Leon, touch me."

He listens to the first part, but not the second. Waiting for it, but it doesn't come; she's aching for him to push her farther. She rocks forward again, desperate for friction against his hand, and he just chuckles quietly.

"I want to take my time with you," he says, voice low, alluring. Leon smirks. He knows what he's doing.

It's infuriating.

He leans in slowly, foreheads touching, noses brush, for a moment she forgets to breathe—the anticipation is killing her. Then their lips meet and he's kisses her, softly, deeply; she actually listens, closing her eyes, allowing him to slow things down for her.

They are like the push and pull of waves—if it were possible for someone to withhold the crashing of the tides.

Their lips are still locked when she reaches down, beginning to undo the buttons on her shirt.

"Here." He puts a hand on hers, moving hers away and brushing his fingers down the fabric. "Let me."

She protests half-heartedly. "I can..." she tries before letting her sentence trail off, not bothering to finish.

"Hm?" he asks.

"I can do it myself."

"I know," he says through a smile, breathing the words on her lips as his fingers make quick work of her buttons. Effortless. "That's why it's more fun when you let me."

"'Kay..." She succumbs. "Don't rip anything."

Shirt tossed aside onto the floor, he reaches back, unhooking her bra with one hand, helping her shrug out of it.

When he finally gets her clothes off, he pauses a moment to take it all in.

"You're staring," she mumbles, avoiding meeting his gaze as she feels her face heat up.

"Can you blame me?" he says, voice full of longing.

She grins, unable to suppress the snort of laughter that comes out.

"C'mere," she says, adoring him more than ever, winding her arms around his neck to pull him in because she's an indulgent partner who just really wants to make out. What can she say? She likes their bodies pressed against each other, so she's willing to even let his hand fall away as she instead takes in the sensation even partially clothed—particularly as his hips grind up against hers.

Repeatedly.

By the way he groans into her mouth, she can tell that he's enjoying himself, too. That, and the way she can already feel him pressed up between her legs.

He bucks up against her, faster now, lips exploring her body as they trail along her jaw, her neck, buried at her collarbone, sucking and nibbling as he thrusts his hips more roughly. His hands are occupied, coming up to trace her skin, her breasts.

Sayaka's gasp turns into a drawn out moan at the friction. "You want me, don't you, Leon?" She's aiming for alluring, but it comes out more ragged, less coherent, than she would like. Really, she's just as desperate to get off as he is.

He just groans in response, coming up to kiss her once more, much more roughly this time. His hand grabs her jaw, their lips graze against each other. To her surprise, he picks her up by the legs, like she weighs almost nothing, to which she giggles in response.

"Whup!" she says. She can't help herself.

Moving Sayaka to the nearby desk, Leon sets her down gently. Stepping back to get a good look at her face, his eyes meet hers, and he brushes the hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear.

Sure, her chest is still heaving up and down from breathing hard, her face is flush, and she's turned on as all hell, but in this tiny moment, her lips twitch in a small smile.

Such a familiar gesture. So tender. So him.

The other hand goes between her legs, moving up and down, up and down against her body, her skin as he goes in for a sweet, lingering kiss. She's so warm all over, so turned on.

"Are you sure?" he asks once their lips part.

"Sure, what?"

"Sure you want this with—with me?" he asks, blue eyes wide.

So fucking earnest. So fucking careful. After all this time, still unsure.

And that's exactly why she knows. How could she possibly share this moment with anyone else but him?

Sayaka nods, meeting his eyes once more. "Of course," she says, with as much conviction as possible. "I want  _you_."

And to her surprise, it's the truth. It's… a lot of different things. It's a little bit about wanting to be fucked. About wanting to come. About just being indulgent—just succumbing to carnal pleasure, just enjoying the sensation of making out, and being touched, and sex, and all that. But she means it. She trusts him. She wants him. In his totality. She likes his pretty face and his great body. She likes his strong hands and his deep blue eyes. She like when he checks up on her, asks her how she's doing, touches her in a way that isn't for his own gratification. She wants to experience everything, as frustrating and endearing he can be.

Intimacy is... a scary thing.

However, she knows that she'd never be brave enough to get to this moment with anybody else in the world.

He flushes bright red at her words, and she's struck by how personal she must sound. "I want you, too."

There's something very attractive about being wanted. More than flattering; it's that involuntary sensation she knows well—where your cheeks warm, you can't stop smiling, you feel tingly all over. Something that just makes you feel good inside, as corny as that sounds. She knows how it goes when she feels wanted, desirable. She hopes he feels the same way, too.

"One sec." He reaches down into his desk drawers, rummaging for a second before pulling out a condom.

"Oh! Right. Good—Good idea," she says. How had it not occurred to her previously? Her voice is small. "Leon?"

"What is it?"

"It's my first, um—do you think it'll hurt?"

"It… might," he admits. "I'll go slow for you."

She nods. "I don't want it to hurt. Do you think we'll need, uh—"

"Do I…" Recognition dawns on his expression, seeming to get the gist of what she's talking about. "Oh! Yeah, hang on." He disappears again, coming up this time with a bottle of lube. "Uh," he pauses, ripping the condom package open with his teeth.

Sayaka snorts. "Nice. That was hot."

"I know, right?"

"Did you practice that?"

"What? No way!"

Sayaka rolls her eyes, fond smile on her face. She grins happily, leaning in for a kiss as she reaches down to undo his pants, unzipping his fly. He lets out a soft hiss as she pulls his already hard cock out from his boxers. She bites her lip, glancing down and then back up at his face.

Well. He's already good to go.

"Here, let me," she says, kissing his cheek and taking the condom from his hand. She tries to keep her hands steady as she works the condom down over his length, tries not to let it show that she is, after all this time, a little nervous. Tries not to making it obvious she she's comparing his cock to the size of her hand. Thinking—and a little worried—about how the thing will feel inside of her.

Thankfully, he's distracted, too busy grabbing the bottle of lube and slicking up his length to notice the blatant staring, or the blush creeping up her face.

"Are you alright?" he asks when he finally glances up at her.

"Y-Yeah," she says, trying to play it cool. "I don't know why I'm..." She takes a deep breath.

He shrugs. "Virginity is bullshit but that doesn't mean this isn't still a kind of first for you. Afraid it's… I don't know, not gonna…. live up to expectations?"

Maybe it's just her imagination, but he sounds nervous.

"Hey, it's you." She places a hand to his cheek. "I don't have to be afraid," says Sayaka. Realizing how mushy that sounds, she adds, "Besides, I have nothing to compare you to, so you're golden."

He snorts. "' _You are a lover_ '."

"' _Not I, believe me'_ ," she replies back to him. "Are you really complaining?"

"Not in the slightest."

They chuckle.

"Come on, Leon, what do you want me to say?" says Sayaka. She's not the romantic, despite the sweet air she might put on. That's all it was. An air, an act. In a moment of inspiration, she winds her arms around his neck, pulling him in while she puts on her best sultry voice. She hates embarrassing herself, but, oh, does she love to embarrass him. "' _I want you, baby, I need you, fuck me into this desk until I can't walk the next morning—'"_

He laughs, shaking his head and trying to ignore the kissing motions she's making with her lips as she hangs onto him. "Okay, okay. Very funny—"

_Is he blushing?_

She grins playfully, putting on the best act she can manage while trying not to break character.

She's joking. Mostly.

It's easier to say these things, these at least somewhat real thoughts when you put on an ironic veneer. " _Come on, baby,"_ she says, and they laugh together in beautiful harmony before she continues to tease him _, "Show me your baseball bat. I've been dreaming about you impaling me with that long, hard—_ "

He puts his hands to her face, cutting her off by pulling her in and kissing her, and she can feel the smile on his lips. She giggles for a moment before succumbing to his touch, melting into his fingertips like putty, boneless.

"Tell me what you want," she says, too entranced to part.

"You." It's barely above a whisper. "Sayaka. God, I want you.  _So much_."

It's all the confirmation she needs.

"Fuck me, Leon," she whispers, as if leaving a trail of the words upon his skin—honest this time.

A moment's pause, just that moment sends her aching with absence as he positions himself at her entrance.

Slowly, carefully, he pushes in.

Almost reflexively, she hisses through her teeth as she feels him slide in. It's strange; there's stretching and pressure, and... it feels... okay. It doesn't hurt, at least not yet. Although her eyes are closed, she can tell he's watching for her reaction.

"Are you okay?" he asks almost immediately at seeing her tense, stopping what he's doing.

She nods, trying not to worry him. "Mhm," she says, lips tight, squeezing her eyes even tighter shut. A shiver runs up her spine in anticipation.

"Okay, I'm— _fuck_ ," he says, worried tone devolving into a groan as he slowly trying to push in an out of her again.

She winces, breath hissing as she inhales. This time it definitely does hurt, like it's too big, or she's being stretched too thin. Please, no blood. "Ow, Leon, it—it—ah…"

"Shit!" says Leon, once again on high alert. She feels him stiffen. "Sayaka, are you ok? Does it feel ok? I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"A little, it's not bad," she says, and it's really not to assuage any guilt on his part. Even though she knew he would freak. It's a little bit for him, but it's more so for herself. Tears spring up in the corner of her eyes, be they from happiness, pain, pleasure, or just the intensity of it all, she has no idea.

It's… different. Pain mixed with pleasure, leaving her on an emotional high.

Achingly curious to see what more there can be.

"I just—just need a second."

Sayaka is pretty sure that given time, her body will adjust.

She hopes.

"Are—Are you sure?" he asks. "You don't have to—ya know—for me."

She can tell in their position, he's struggling for words. "No, I—" she tries, equally as stuck as he. "I—I'm ok, I.. I swear, I…"

Even now, it already feels less painful. It's already minimal—an uncomfortable stretching, some stinging maybe, unfamiliar pressure, and a bad position—but she's calmed down, and she wants to keep going. His respect for her limits is precious and absolutely reassuring, but sometimes she just wants to test herself. Sometimes, she just wants him to be a little, y'know. A little bad to her.

And… she likes it. She likes this. Being here with him. It's... special, if you want to think of it in a lovey-dovey sense. Maybe "special" isn't quite right. Vulnerable? Maybe vulnerable. Or intimate. Something like that.

"I-I don't know." He sounds hesitant.

"Leon, are  _you_  alright?" she asks him.

"What? I--" He's red, maybe caught off guard. "Yeah, I-I'm good. Better than good, but--"

"Then so am I." She offers a reassuring smile. "Just move," she tells him, trying to take deep breaths, keeping her heartbeat under control. "Keep moving, and it'll—I want this. I want to—to try," she says.

As their eyes meet he seems to understand.

He nods ever so slightly, brushing the hair out of her face once more as he kisses her forehead, and she smiles into his touch as he continues.

Still slow. Still careful.

Sayaka takes deep breaths as he continues to move into her, trying to situate herself.

"Am I hurting you?" he asks. "Sayaka."

"You're fine, Leon," she says. "Really."

He's slow. Teasing, even. As she gets more used to the sensation, the pain diminishes, and it bothers her less and less. She wants... more.

"Oh, yeah..." he says with a low moan as he pumps in and out of her. "Fuck… Does that feel okay?" he asks, pausing to check on her.

"Uh-huh," she says, or moreso manages, with a small nod. "Keep going," she adds, still sensing his hesitation.

"Yeah?" he asks, almost as if he's surprised.

Another nod. Hurried, this time. "Yeah. I—" She wants to say everything, but it'll just sound stupid. "You—You like it?" she asks, going slightly red because, well, it's a dumb question.

"Do I—" He lets out a shaky laugh, incredulous. "Yeah, I'm—I'm good. Fuck, you feel so good," he says, drawing out the expletive and his tone admiring, adoring, revelling.

She sighs, resting her head on his shoulder. Content.

They're at it for a bit, feeling the rhythm of their bodies in time when she chooses to speak up again. Not that it's not good, but she gets the sense he's holding back. He's always so good to her. So careful. But it's ok to not always be so careful--to be a little dangerous.

"Faster," she gasps out.

"Huh?"

"F-Faster," she says again. "You can go faster. P-Please."

He chuckles, smirking and pulling her in for a lingering kiss. "I don't think you've ever begged for me before. It's kinda hot."

Damn it. Why is his smug expression so attractive?

He's still taking his time with her. It's sweet in its own way, but she's aching, wanting for more—more heat, more friction, more him, more everything.

Sayaka groans, gasping as he continues to push in and out of her. "God, you are the w-worst," she says, barely able to manage opening her eyes to glare at him in irritation. "Fuck me faster, Leon, please. That feels  _good_."

She rolls her hips upward into him, once, twice, trying to fuck herself on his cock, craving friction, craving him. "That feels good, baby," she says, not even caring about the slip-up, the little pet name.

"Oh,  _fuck_ ," says Leon, seemingly gazing at her, taking it all in. "Shit," he breathes out. "I—I—Hang on."

"What do you—" she starts, but she doesn't have time to finish before he picks her up with surprising grace, and she lets out a small startled noise of surprise before he lays her down on his nearby mattress.

His eyes look her up and down, taking it all in. "You look so good right now."

She flushes red right up to her ears with pleasure, suddenly feeling very warm in the face.

"I can't believe we're really doing this," he says in a hushed voice, so quiet that she's not sure if it's meant for her.

"What do—oh  _fuck_ —" She stops her train of thought completely, gasping as he pushes inside her and hits her right where she likes it. "What—What do you mean?" she asks.

"I just—how the fuck did I get so lucky?" He leans down so that their bodies are close together, as he murmurs the adoring words, lips brushing her ear. He kisses her cheek, mumbling onto her skin. "How is that even fair?" He thrusts again, and it's coupled by the sensation of his warm breath on her skin.

Instead of responding, the only noise she can let out is a faint whimper as she bites her lip.

" _Fuck_ , Sayaka," he groans.

"Leon, oh,  _Leon_ ," she draws out his name.

Nope. Not there.

"A little to the left. No, my left. Ow!"

"Shit! S-Sorry—"

"It's fine, I—Okay,  _yes_ , right there. R-Right—Right the-e—“ she begins, devolving into a high-pitched pathetic moan as he hits her in just the right spot. Whatever he's doing right now, she definitely likes it.

"Sayaka, you sound fu—fucking unbelievable right now," he growls, adoring, wanting, a touch possessive, hands coming to grip her thighs so rough that she knows (or hopes) that his fingers pressed into her skin are going to leave marks.

She just moans in response, as he continues to pump in and out of her, picking up in speed. Getting him to let go of his inhibitions, she can finally let go herself.

She reaches down to touch herself, so turned on by the sight and the feeling of him. Her fingers move in small circles, the combination of the stimulation of her clit plus the penetration is enough to make her gasp out, to cry out incoherently, back arching as her legs twitch and shake.

"So close," she whispers, "I'm close, just—just keep—"

He leans over, kissing her passionately—or rather, sloppily, a mess of tongue and spit and teeth clacking together. She winces.

"Sorry, I—"

She laughs weakly, cutting him off as she tries again for him to get this right. Their lips graze, sighing into his mouth and winding her arms around his neck, pulling him close. She wants to close that gap. To make as much contact as possible, the weight of his body on top of her making her head swim. That feeling of suffocation is back, of searing skin as their bodies, slick, burning from the heat as they press against each other.

Not enclosed, but secure.

He continues to thrust as his lips graze the corners of her open mouth, tracing her jawline, nibbling her earlobe, then to her neck—kissing, sucking, making his mark on her body.

Their lips part, but not for long as they kiss once more, softly—sweetly this time—and she traces her cheek with her hand, lips upturned in a small smile. In response, he places one hand on hers, interlocking their fingers so that they're holding hands.

" _Leon_ ," she breathes against his skin. She can barely get the words out. "Don't stop. I like the way you feel inside of me. Just keep fucking me like that. You're gonna make me come. I wanna _come_." She's a pathetic, desperate, helpless mess.

"Yeah, Sayaka?"

God, his breath is so fucking hot against her skin as he pants. Her mind is empty, all thoughts lost to pure sensation. There's only one word, one name.

"L-Leon, I—"

"I wanna hear you." His voice is low, a soft growl, a welcoming beckon. The hesitancy is gone, replaced by something confident, assured, maybe even possessive, that's been there all along.

"Oh my god," she says, feeling her body shudder. "I'm gonna  _come_ , Leon. That feels so good. Your cock feels so good inside me. Don't stop fucking me, you're gonna make me come, I'm so close, please," she whines, begs, inhibitions gone. "Please. I wanna come so bad, just like that, keep going—"

And for once instead of teasing, he actually listens to her, as if he himself found it impossible to break pace as she's brought closer and closer.

She continues, chants, a tumble of words spilling out, uncensored, unfiltered, continuous, streaming as she rambles, individual words indiscernible in the mess—as she shakes, cries out, gasps, touches him any way she can, nails trailing down his back before winding her arms tighter around him, clutching his neck as if to hold herself steady as he fucks her right. "Oh fuck, oh fuck! Right—right there, oh my fucking—oh,  _Leon_ , oh yes! I'm coming, baby, oh yes, yes,  _yes_..."

Her expression as she cries out for him, head back, arched, is absolutely beautiful. In a way she didn't think was possible. Not for something so carnal, so rough, undignified.

Tears start to pool in her eyes as she trembles, breath ragged, drowning in the heat and sensation and overstimulated to hell. She is surrounded by warmth, by sweat, and everything at once feels silent and too loud.

Leon leans in so that their foreheads touch. "You ok?" he whispers. His voice helps bring her back.

He slows down his pace, maybe to let her catch her breath, maybe for his own sake.

She just nods. Then the tears start to pour. She shivers in his arms, winding her arms around his waist and holding him close.

"It's not too much?" he asks. "You're crying."

She laughs weakly. "You're being a little rough." She lets out a low, drawn out moan. Sure, he's being a little rough with her, but she can take it. She's just so fucking horny, and his cock feels so good. "Are you close?" she whimpers back, meeting his eyes. "K-keep going. Come for me." Begging for it like a need. For some reason, she wants nothing more than for him to come. "Please, Leon, come for me."

Leon groans, eyes closing. "Sayaka," he breathes. "Oh, Sayaka." There's so much want in his voice that it makes her ache. He's pathetic, at her mercy, despite the fact that she feels the same way.

"It's so hot when y—when you say my name," says Sayaka, flush with pleasure and a little embarrassment, a guilty admission. He wants _her_. She's not one for admitting weakness, but she wants to hear it again. So she tells him. "D-Do it again." She winds her legs around him, a knee-jerk response—or maybe some attempt to bring them closer.

" _Sayaka_." He draws it out, savors it. "Fuck, Sayaka. I'm gonna come."

Fuck, he sounds so desperate.

He leans in to kiss her, their teeth gnashing with how rough it is. Their lips part, noses bumping together in the jerkiness of his motions. "Fuck, I'm—" He lets out a long, deep groan as he pounds into her. Head buried into the crook of her neck, her fingers twisted in his hair. She feels his deep, shuddering breaths against her skin as he comes, hips jutting roughly.

For a moment, he lays still against her body, nothing but the rising and falling of chests in silence. Then, he sits up so that he can look at her, face to face.

"Wow," whispers Sayaka, still trying to catch her breath. "That was..."

Leon chuckles. "I heard that."

"What?"

"You said 'wow'." He pulls out, and for some reason his absence actually feels significant. Lacking.

"I didn't say anything!”

"Nope. I don't make the rules," said Leon with a smug grin. "You said 'wow', and you can't take back 'wow'."

"Oh, shut up." She rolls her eyes. Regretting her harshness, even if she was only teasing, she eased off a bit. "Shut up… babe," she says instead.

He laughs softly, shaking his head. "Better."

Exhausted, he gives in so that he's laying on top of her, head on her shoulder.

Sayaka giggles, still breathless. "You're heavy, babe."

"Mmm, sucks for you," he mumbles.

She brushes the hair out of his face, gazing at him fondly. "You're lucky that you're cute."

"Am I? C'mere." With a small groan, he rolls over onto his side, pulling her in close to him.

She sighs, cozy in his arms. "Is it selfish that I don't want to share you?" she murmurs, closing her eyes.

"Nah," he says, but at this she feels his arms secure around her.

"Kiss me," she says.

"What was that?" he asks, clearly teasing—knowing damn well that he can hear her just fine. She can practically hear the smile in his voice.

" _Leon_ ," she whines.

He chuckles again. "So needy."

But he complies, to her surprise first kissing her forehead before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She sighs happily, letting the sensation linger much longer than was probably anticipated or necessary. But she's indulgent, and tired, and, well, happy. One hand moves up to brush her hair back, behind her ear, then resting on her cheek.

When they part, she opens her eyes to look up at him.

"I…"

There's so much she wants to say. But words die on her lips before she can say them.

"Yes?" he asks, curiosity piqued.

She mumbles something too quiet to hear, hiding behind her hand and nuzzling into his shoulder.

He laughs again, amused by her behavior. "Sayaka." He grabs her hand, pulling it away, trying coax her out of her shell.

"If I quit being an idol, can't I keep you around just a little longer?" she asks him with a small pout, settling into his arms all lazy and comfortable.

"No serious life decisions while screwing around, remember?" he says, even though he knows she's joking.

"That's stupid," mumbles Sayaka, already dozing off.

"It was  _your_  idea," reminds Leon.

"Well, my ideas are stupid. Hold me, will you?"

"Sure, make yourself at home," he says, voice full of light-hearted sarcasm even as he allows her to snuggle up against him, grabbing his arm and placing it around her. If she's still, she's pretty sure she can hear the beating of his heart.

She smiles to herself. "Already there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep saying this next chapter will be the last one and then i add one more also this is real corny but i'm having fun so idc


End file.
